Amaranth
by Fabled Wings
Summary: AU. Marik doesn't understand why he keeps going back to see her, but he does anyway. Sedateshipping for the YGO Fanfiction Contest S10R5.


Amaranth

Marik had his eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance as he fumbled with the lock. Of all the things he could have left back at his workplace, it had to be the thumbdrive that contained the one important essay that was due in, oh, another six hours. It wasn't even done yet, and Marik knew very well his professor's stringent rule on deadlines. Not to mention he had not had a wink of sleep from revising for a test later in the day.

Thus here he was, at the unholy hour of two o'clock in the morning, unlocking a back door in the side of a dark alley. It was a much friendlier place in the day, but at night, this place seemed sinister; there's no helping the feeling that someone's going to jump you, grab your money, and slit your throat. He was trying to get open the lock with as little noise as possible, but it wasn't an easy feat when you could barely see five feet in front of you.

There was an audible _click_, and Marik made haste to enter the boutique and then locked the door behind him. He made his way to the front immediately where the counter was; he always placed his stuff in the lowest drawer when he came straight from his college, and no one seemed to mind. He switched on the lamp on the counter that was used for decoration more than anything else, but right then Marik was glad it was there because he didn't fancy groping around any longer in the dark.

It was then he caught a silhouette of movement in his peripheral vision.

"Oi," Marik growled in exasperation, "if I find out it's you, Bakura, I'm not going to help you smuggle all those occult stuff into your dorm, ever." Bakura had the habit of scaring people when they least expect it; Marik had been the unfortunate victim the first year of their acquaintance, so much that Marik's of the opinion that if a crocodile had its gaping maw around his head, he wouldn't even flinch.

"Who's Bakura?"

"Oh, major pain in the ass that doesn't ever go away no matter how much ointment you apply to it, and soon it's such a regular part of your everyday life that you get used to it and it's odd not having it around," Marik rattled on, a small smile forming on his lips as his fingers closed over his thumbdrive.

And then froze.

"S-Since when could you imitate a girl's voice so well, h-huh, Bakura..." Marik laughed weakly.

"But, I'm not Bakura," the voice said. "Who's Bakura?"

There was actual genuine confusion in the voice - or Bakura was a really convincing actor. Marik reached to turn on the lamp again.

The first thing he noticed was that the mannequin they had on display behind the display window was conspicuously missing. _Why hadn't I noticed that before..._

The next thing he noticed was the girl staring at him over the counter and he thought he did very well in containing an undignified yelp.

The girl (in a flattering pink summer dress and a yellow scarf tied around her neck loosely, both articles of clothing that seemed all too familiar; straight brown hair cascaded down, ending just above her chest) and Marik entered a staring contest with her for a minute before shaking his head in a frenzy. "Okay, tell me I'm dreaming."

"Dreaming? What's that?" The girl asked.

"I should be the one asking questions here!" Marik replied shakily. "Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing here?"

"But, you do know who I am, Marik," the girl said. "You see me everyday."

Marik squinted at her, until his eyes were indiscernible slits. They grew wide. "Woah, shit," the blond said. "And I never believe Bakura when he talks about sealing souls in dolls and all that mumbo-jumbo."

"Mumbo-jumbo?"

"He dabbles in some crazy stuff, like Ouija boards and candles and mirrors and- _why the hell am I telling you these things!_ You're a talking doll! And how do you know my name?"

"Mannequins aren't quite dolls," the girl corrected matter-of-factly. "I have ears, you know."

"You- argh! Just tell me how the heck a mannequin's able to come to live and speak to me!"

"… I don't know," she said, continuing to stare at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. Marik noted her irises were hazel, now that she actually did have them.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I don't think those three words are difficult to understand."

"… Whatever. I'm done here," Marik shoved his thumbdrive into the pocket of his jeans, flicked off the lamp and stalked off into the back of the store. To his chagrin, the soft click-clack of high heels trailed behind him.

"My name is Shizuka," she was saying. "It gets lonely here, you know."

"Don't know, don't care. I just want some sleep right now."

"You'll... come back again, right?"

Marik only glanced back at her for a second - hazel eyes, as wide as ever, glanced back at him - before he shut the door behind himself.

* * *

Maybe it was curiosity; maybe he really wanted to see Shizuka again (although heaven knows why he would) – whatever it was, Marik knew that he had unanswered questions, and he planned on having them answered. The alley wasn't as sinister the next night due to the familiarity. Marik found his way into the store and quietly made his way over to the counter.

As he thought – Shizuka the mannequin wasn't at the display window.

"You're back again!"

Marik didn't expect to be tackle-hugged from the back by Shizuka, thus both fell towards the floor with a loud thud, Marik softening the other's fall with his own body. He briefly wondered about the fragility of a mannequin-brought-to-life as papers, stationery and boxes were dislodged from their places and fell down, mostly on Shizuka and around them.

"Honestly, that was quite unnecessary," Marik grumbled into the floor. "You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

"It doesn't hurt a bit," Shizuka said. Her elbows were digging into his back, not hard and stiff like her mannequin body, but more akin to human flesh and bone.

"If so, mind getting off me? This isn't exactly a comfortable position."

"Oh, sorry!" Shizuka said, flustered, as she scrambled to do so. "I've just… never touched someone, or hugged someone. I want to know how it feels like," she giggled, a light note that seemed to lift the dreariness from being in the dark. "It's nice! You're really warm."

"That sounds like a compliment, but I can't seem to take it as one," Marik stood up and straightened his clothes. He reached for the lamp switch.

Shizuka had moved to the over side of the counter, exactly where she was the first time Marik saw her. Her hair was just slightly ruffled from the fall, and she was staring as usual, her eyes like black holes, attracting his gaze. She blinked, and the hypnosis was over.

"Okay, okay, um," Marik searched for something that wasn't Shizuka to look at. The fountain pen seemed fascinating all of a sudden. "Shizuka, mind telling me how this works?"

"What works?"

"This. You," Marik pointed his index finger at her, and turned his focus back towards her, this time settling his vision on her lips. "How are you, a mannequin, walking around and talking to me?"

"I don't know."

"How wouldn't you know?"

"Humans don't know why they were made to do half the things they do too."

"… Good point," Marik acceded. "So, does this only happen at night, or…"

"I haven't seen daytime before," Shizuka replied. "My eyes only know the night."

"… Oh."

"But my ears work fine, all the time," Shizuka continued, and for some reason decided to do a little twirl on the spot. "I listen to people talking, all the time. This one woman was particularly loud today. Her son was saying sorry a lot and crying a lot, but the woman kept yelling at him, saying how bad a son he was and saying all sorts of rude words, and her son just kept on crying and saying sorry, and I thought, what a terrible woman she is."

"But the son may have really done something bad," Marik said. "He could have done something awful, like maybe he stole from a shop and she was unhappy about it."

"All he did was drop something called ice cream on the pavement, though."

"Okay, yeah, then maybe that woman was kind of overboard," Marik nodded. "Wait, you don't know what ice cream is?"

"… It's food?"

"Ice cream is one of the best inventions this fucked-up world's ever come up with! Imagine it's a really hot day, and you really need some water, but you've run out of water, and then you hear the tinkle of the ice cream man carting around the corner, and then you rush up to him and buy some ice cream and that first lick of cold, delicious creamy goodness. Best. Feeling. _Ever_."

Shizuka was oddly quiet. (_Just like her name_, Marik thought.) After a few moments passed, she murmured, "I can't imagine that. I don't know half the things you said."

Marik felt instantly guilty. His words must have sounded pretty insensitive to Shizuka, who's essentially been stuck in this store all her life. He must have forgotten she wasn't really alive for a second there, since she, on all accounts, looked like any other living, breathing, ordinary human being then.

A very pretty one, at that.

Marik's never seen an ugly mannequin, though.

"So, can all mannequins come to life like this?"

"I've never seen the others, so I don't know."

"… You don't know a lot of things, huh."

"Mm."

"Well, I guess that has to be rectified immediately!" Marik slammed his palms down on the counter, then leaned over it. "Let's start educating you about life."

"B-But Marik, I'm just a mannequin!"

"Not at night you're not. I like telling people things, don't worry."

"I won't be taking up much of your time, will I?" Shizuka leaned her face towards Marik's, expression filled with worry.

"… My sis always tells me to spend my time fruitfully. What better way to do so than to educate an animated doll on the world outside?"

* * *

They ended up talking a lot; words came out slowly at first, but when they got on the topic of food, Marik rattled on like a torpedo (although it was a little depressing to find out that mannequins couldn't eat nor sleep) and it was an easy-going conversation from there on out. Shizuka fired away with her questions, mostly about stuff she didn't understand in the conversations she heard day to day. Marik didn't know why he entertained her so, but he felt relaxed around her, even if her existence was somewhat inconceivable.

Maybe this was a very long dream. A very long dream he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up from.

It was almost five in the morning when Marik yawned, and then decided that he'd better get a couple hours of sleep or his professor might call on him in class again. "Professor Hopkins has called on me for sleeping in class too many times and I fear I'd be kicked out of his good books soon if I don't rectify that."

"Why would you sleep in class? Isn't it important not to?."

"Sometimes I stay up way too late revising. And of course you'll stay awake… or you'll try your hardest to. Trust me, no one ever escapes the lure of a nap during a three-hour long lecture." Marik switched off the lamp. "I'll come back again – either tonight or tomorrow."

"… You will?" Shizuka clasped her hands together. "Thank you!"

And promptly flung herself on him for the second time that night. Marik caught her in his arms, and wrapped them around her awkwardly. It reminded him of his sister's embrace, when she would return from her long overseas trips and the first thing she would do when they met was hug, just like this.

"Thank you," she said again, before she pulled away in reluctance to walk onto the platform before the display window. She turned back briefly to wave at Marik.

"We'll meet again, Shizuka."

* * *

When Marik went to work that afternoon after a few hours of gruelling lectures, he saw that the mannequin - no, _Shizuka_ - was back where she should be, staring down at the living, breathing people that passed her by. Except that she couldn't, but it sure looked like that. Marik couldn't help but glance at her now and then, hoping he was keeping it subtle.

"Hey, what's up, Marik?" Bakura asked an hour into their shift. "You've been staring at that thing for hours."

"N-Nothing, Bakura, why would you think there's anything wrong, haha..." Marik trailed off with a nervous chuckle. "Just another normal day in the life of Marik Ishtar!"

Bakura continued to look at him quizzically. "I don't believe you."

"People used to think the Earth was a cube, didn't they?"

"... Tch," Bakura returned to arranging the Nike shelf. "Remember to count me in on the fun if you find something awesome."

"Sure, Bakura, sure..."

* * *

"Who's in your family?" Shizuka asked one night.

"An elder sister and brother."

"Hmm? What about your parents?"

"My mum died giving birth to me. Dad died in an accident."

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be sorry about it," Marik said. "All three of us are quite glad that dad's no longer with us."

"… But, he's your dad," Shizuka cocked her head. "Shouldn't you be sad about his death?"

"He… wasn't really the best dad," Marik turned his gaze away from her eyes. "He was part of this cult who told him to keep us homeschooled for most of our childhood... but the things we were taught were not the regular stuff you were taught in school. He spouted a lot of religious nonsense and we were made to adhere to some crazy practices like praying for half an hour four times a day and even though we were vegans – still are – we were banned from eating vegan junk food. We weren't allowed outside at all after Rishid brought home a copy of _Harry Potter_ – which was subsequently thrown into the fireplace. The first time I ate ice cream was when I was fifteen – _fifteen!_ – a few months after dad died.

"So… once upon a time I was as clueless about life as you. Like a proverbial blindfold had been placed over my eyes. It was difficult to fit in anywhere because we didn't know so much, but Ishizu and Rishid were able to go outside already because they're way older than me, so they managed to acquire some actually useful information from books and the internet – did I mention I didn't know what a computer was until then? So they put themselves in charge of teaching me all they can before sending me to public school, where I learned actual useful things like maths and chemistry and geography – yeah. All this in the life of one Marik Ishtar."

"That sounds… pretty terrible."

"Yeah, so whenever I come across something new, I have to learn all about it. I don't want to miss anything. I don't want others to miss anything."

"… I think I'd like an older sibling," Shizuka suddenly said. "Yours sound like they're really good people."

"They're great," Marik nodded. "Some of my friends always tell me how much they hate their siblings, and I just don't understand them when they say that."

"If I could have a sibling, I think I'd like an older brother," she shrugged. "Just a feeling. I won't know if that's really what I want."

"Sometimes I wonder how different things will be if I were the older sibling instead. And I feel that… I'd be a really shitty older brother. I won't know where to start to give the best to Ishizu and Rishid. Maybe I was born last because I need so much looking after."

"Oh! I heard someone say this the other day; 'big brothers... you know why they're born first? To protect the little ones that come after them.' It makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?"

"Hey, you're right! Well, whoever said it is right. We're all on this world for a purpose."

"… Even me?"

"… Yeah, even you."

* * *

Marik made sure he visited Shizuka at least three times a week, while making sure it didn't stand in his way of his other commitments. He didn't expect to love talking to her so much – he felt relaxed around her, and he liked that he could tell her anything. It took Bakura six month before Marik was willing to tell him anything about his past, but Shizuka brought it out of him barely a week since they first met.

The first signs of winter were showing, noted by the chilly gusts of wind that navigated the streets and the need to wear more layers of clothing. Bakura was afflicted with the cold that day. ("Feels like a bunch of tiny chickens pooping in there," he's wheezed over the phone.) When Marik walked into the store that day, Shizuka was in a red winter frock, and a purple woollen scarf was woven around her neck. Marik had asked her whether she felt strange when her clothes were being changed, but Shizuka replied that she couldn't really feel anything when she was plastic.

He made his way behind the counter and shoved his files in the bottom drawer, then shed off his coat. Their boss was in the house today, talking on the phone with someone.

"… Ah, yes, she'll be ready to be taken two days from now, on the twenty-seventh. … some time in the afternoon or evening. My employees will know what to do if I'm not here."

Vivian hung up the phone and moved to arrange some papers in a folder. There weren't many customers today, so Marik thought it would be in his place to ask. "Hey Vivian, what was that phone call about?"

"… Oh, right. Marik, we're going to be replacing our mannequin and someone's going to-"

"You're going to _what?_" Marik shrieked.

"Replacing our mannequin. Honestly, it isn't anything to freak out over. It's just a pretty doll."

"… Right, just a pretty doll…" _Not. I can't let Shizuka go just like that._

"Anyway, I'll be e-mailing the instructions to you all later so I don't have to repeat myself. I don't think you'll be here then, I think, but take note just in case."

Marik was in a pretty bad mood the rest of his shift. Vivian was still around when he was about to leave, and berated him for the stormy expression he was giving to the customers. Marik was past caring, though.

* * *

"You can't leave," Marik said to Shizuka that night. "You can't. You heard what Vivian said, didn't you? I refuse to let that happen."

"… I knew it was coming, Marik."

"You _knew_?" Marik narrowed his eyes at her, feeling almost betrayed. "I really hate not knowing things. You know that."

"I really like spending time with you, Marik," Shizuka continued, twiddling her thumbs. "But in the end, all I am is a mannequin."

"You're not just a mannequin. Not just a doll. Not to _me_."

"… I've said it many times, but I'll say it again. Thank you, Marik."

"No, thank _you_, Shizuka."

It was always Shizuka that initiated their hugs, but this time, it was Marik that did so. If only he could keep hugging her like this, never let her go-

"Let's dance, Marik!"

"Shizuka, what-" she was already dragging him across the store "But, I don't know how to!"

"It's just putting our arms around each other and moving around, right? We can handle that!"

They must have looked a ridiculous sight, if anyone was looking at them. Marik didn't know the least about the act of dancing itself, and Shizuka had probably never seen anyone dance, but this feeling… he wanted to save it in his memories forever.

Maybe he liked Shizuka, more than just as a friend. Maybe…

Yeah, he liked her. Not as far as to tag the word 'love' to their relationship; more than friends, but less than lovers.

Marik wondered if Shizuka felt the same as him.

"Marik, I have a final request."

They had stopped dancing now, just holding each other in a gentle embrace. "What is it?"

"Can you let me… feel your face? I want to remember you."

Marik could only nod. Shizuka reached up a hand slowly, and let her fingers rest on his cheek. She had her eyes closed as she let her fingers wander, around the contours of his eyes, his nose, his lips, his ears. Gradual, slow motions, because she wanted to commit this man to her memory. This man, her connection to the world beyond.

And then Shizuka lifted herself on tip-toe and kissed the corner of Marik's lips.

"Go, Marik," Shizuka said, opening her eyes. Those large hazel eyes he will never forget. "I'll remember you, always."

"And I'll… remember you too, Shizuka."

"… Go," she repeated, removing herself from Marik hastily and walking away. "Don't make this too difficult."

He let his feet take him out into the alley and back on the streets, not once looking back. Only when he was a few blocks away, did his feet stop, and Marik let out a scream into the night.

* * *

A/N: Phew, finally done with this! Inspiration primarily came from Lollipop F's song _Love Conquest_ and a few other places.


End file.
